A Small Persona
The persona itself is the true art.
Within me lives a small persona—a woman whose different qualities have learned to share one life. Mischief lives in her mind, romance in her heart, curiosity in her eyes, and quiet detachment in her soul. Together, they give her a way of meeting the world that is entirely her own.
My mind is mischievous.
It wanders, asks unexpected questions, and sometimes smiles at the seriousness with which I hold an ordinary thought. Its mischief keeps a little childhood alive within me. Even after years of experience, I can still be surprised; I can still laugh at myself.
My heart is romantic.
It falls in love with small things: a flower opening, the sky's changing colors, the tenderness in someone’s voice. Sometimes a breeze touches my face, and I linger as though someone dear has just arrived.
My heart gives these moments room. Through it, the everyday world becomes intimate.
My eyes are students.
They are still learning how to see.
A tree teaches them patience. A fallen leaf teaches them to notice beauty in departure. A face invites them to look beyond their first impression.
The longer I live, the more I wish to keep this willingness to learn. There is something lovely about looking at a familiar world and finding that it still has something to show me.
My ears are thoughts.
What I hear continues within me. A spoken word becomes a question; birdsong becomes a memory; a pause in conversation gives me something to consider.
I listen, and understanding slowly takes shape. Sometimes it arrives much later, when the voice itself has faded, and its meaning finally becomes clear.
My tongue embodies the wisdom of old age.
Experience has made me more attentive to words. I have felt their warmth and their weight. I am learning when to speak, how gently to speak, and when to let another person finish unfolding a thought.
I hope my words carry the patience of someone who has lived, stumbled, listened, and learned.
My soul is an ascetic.
A quiet place within me asks for very little. It can enjoy affection, beauty, and companionship while letting them be free.
That inward simplicity helps me breathe. It reminds me that I can love deeply without holding everything tightly.
And my very being is an artist.
All these qualities meet in the way I live. My mischief brings movement; my heart brings tenderness; my eyes bring curiosity; my listening brings reflection. Experience lends its voice, and the soul leaves a little space around it all.
Nature gives this artist her melody.
I hear it in the wind moving through leaves. I see it in the unhurried opening of a flower. Watching the seasons, I learn something about my own changing moods: when to blossom, when to rest, when to release what has completed its time.
Some days I sing and dance to that melody. On quieter days, I simply walk beneath the sky and feel glad to be here.
Perhaps this is why I call the persona itself the true art. It takes shape through the small choices of an ordinary day—how I listen, what I notice, the words I offer, the freedom I allow.
I am still discovering her, this small persona within me.
She has fallen deeply in love with the art of living.
— Harjinder Kaur
